In the glittering world of celebrity, where loyalty is as fleeting as fame itself, two women stand at the center of a growing storm: Meghan Markle and Nicola Peltz Beckham. To many, they are modern, glamorous, and bold. But to others – and I count myself among them – they represent something far more calculating. These women have, with surgical precision, isolated their partners, Prince Harry and Brooklyn Beckham, from the families that raised them. And it’s time someone said it: this didn’t happen by accident.

Let’s begin with Meghan. Once a modest actress in a cable TV series, she catapulted herself into the highest echelons of royalty. Some might call that a fairy tale. I call it a strategic conquest. Within months of dating Harry, the once-beloved prince became a man at war with his own blood. Meghan took on the monarchy itself, painting the Royal Family as a cold, bigoted institution, and Harry followed – obediently – right behind her.

It wasn’t just an exit from royal duties; it was a scorched-earth campaign. He lost his military titles, his honorary roles, and worst of all, his bond with Prince William, his only brother, and with King Charles, who, despite all, walked Meghan down the aisle.

Harry, once the cheeky, brave soldier who served in Afghanistan, is now a ghost of his former self, seen juggling for their son Archie on Zoom calls and complaining about security in Montecito. Ask yourself this: would this have ever happened without Meghan’s influence?

And now, onto Nicola Peltz, the billionaire heiress who turned Brooklyn Beckham, once a sweet (if slightly directionless) boy, into a shadow of his former self. The Beckhams, known for their tight-knit family dynamic, are now divided. Tensions reportedly erupted around their lavish wedding, with whispers of control, coldness, and even dresses gone wrong.

But more than the wedding was at stake. Since marrying Nicola, Brooklyn seems detached from his famous parents, David and Victoria Beckham, who built an empire from scratch and guided him through the brutal glare of public life. He once wanted to be a footballer, then a photographer, then a chef – now, he seems content being Mr. Peltz, a man swallowed by the identity of his wife’s wealthy, media-savvy clan.

These women didn’t just fall in love. They conquered. Meghan and Nicola systematically removed their husbands from their natural support systems. They encouraged separateness, secrecy, and a sense of persecution. The result? Two powerful families – the Windsors and the Beckhams – shaken to their core.

And yet, the public – especially online – continues to champion these women as feminist icons. But there’s nothing feminist about isolating a man from his mother, his brother, or his roots. True empowerment lifts everyone. This is something entirely different: it’s domination under the guise of love.

In Meghan and Nicola’s world, there is no room for compromise. It’s their way, or the highway. And unfortunately, Harry and Brooklyn, both emotionally stunted in their own ways, were easy prey. Neither had a strong sense of direction. Both longed for affection. And both were lured into tight, shiny webs of control.

It’s not fashionable to say these things. But sometimes, the truth isn’t fashionable – it’s necessary.

So here’s my message: behind the Instagram photos and the polished interviews, behind the “we’re just doing what’s best for our family” speeches, lies a far messier, colder reality. Meghan and Nicola didn’t just find love. They found opportunity — and they took it, no matter the cost.

And the cost, as we now see, was family itself.